


(Pain)fully Human

by Banashee



Series: Bad Things Happen Bingo ROUND 2 [7]
Category: Hawkeye (Comics), The Avengers - Ambiguous Fandom
Genre: Additional Warnings In Author's Note, Chronic Pain, Clint Barton & Tony Stark Friendship, Dogs, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Friendship, Gen, Growing Old, Hurt/Comfort, Light Angst, Mental Health Issues, Pain
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-25
Updated: 2021-01-25
Packaged: 2021-03-13 07:01:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,042
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28899312
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Banashee/pseuds/Banashee
Summary: Being one of the very few Avengers without superpowers sucks sometimes, but Clint is used to it. It's fine, he keeps telling himself, but he is no longer 20 and getting up in the mornings is a lot harder these days.Retirement from the Avengers suddenly isn't far away anymore...-Part 7/25: Chronic Pain
Relationships: Clint Barton & Lucky (Hawkeye), Clint Barton & Tony Stark
Series: Bad Things Happen Bingo ROUND 2 [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1981954
Comments: 2
Kudos: 18





	(Pain)fully Human

**Author's Note:**

> Bad Things Happen Bingo - Round 2!  
> Originally, I had this aaaall planned out as a NaNoWriMo project, but I decited to scrap that. Instead, I'll just write little snippets for each prompt and safe the larger ideas for another time. I'll write them - one day...  
> *Looks at giant pile of unfinished ideads and projects*  
> *nervous laughter dissolving into desperate sobbing*  
> -
> 
> As always, I'm crossposting these stories on my Tumblr.  
> https://banashee.tumblr.com/
> 
> You can get your own Bingo Card over at  
> https://badthingshappenbingo.tumblr.com/
> 
> The cover for this fic was made with a free to use photo from pixarbay
> 
> Please mind the tags and warnings!

****

**(Pain)fully Human**

Being one of the very few Avengers without superpowers royally sucks sometimes. It really does, even though Clint is used to it. 

It's fine, he keeps telling himself, but he is no longer 20 and getting up in the mornings is a lot harder these days, and a lot more painful.

Clint is in his late 40s, which isn’t even old, really, but it sure feels like it when you’ve been working hard for most of your life, tagging along with actual superhumans and rescuing a city and occasionally the world every few weeks. Not to mention the injuries - they can be real nasty, and when the weather gets cold, Clint can feel them in his bones. He doesn’t complain though, not really.

He will complain about everything and anything else all day long if you’ll let him, because at heart, some part of him is a grumpy grandpa and has been ever since he was a teenager, but he rarely, if ever, voices any real distress. It’s easier to deflect because what is the alternative? Admitting defeat or the fact that his days in the field are definitely counted? No way. 

Clint can deal with a lot, but feeling useless - or worse, being useless - isn’t one of those things. 

This is why he forces himself to keep going even when every muscle in his body cramps and protests, and it’s why he forces himself out of bed despite being exhausted. Pain is part of the job, he learns early on, and there are quiet periods where he can heal and relax.

When exactly the pain stops disappearing, he wouldn’t be able to tell. 

At first, it’s just smaller aches that linger, especially a bad back and a few old wounds. Over time, it gets worse - it is a creeping process.

Some mornings, Clint can’t get out of bed without being in excruciating pain. He can barely stand, let alone walk. Those days, he can’t even make the short way from his bed to the bathroom without struggling. He clings to the bed frame with watering eyes, cursing up a blue storm and collapsing back onto it, gasping for breath. 

Clint remains sitting on the edge then, shaking like a leaf and breathing through the pain until it fades away just enough for him to be able to carefully get up, slowly making his way through the day. Some days are bad enough that he can’t even leave the house to do anything - the fatigue, the frustration and his mental health spiralling out of control are simply too much. 

He’s always had trouble with Depression and Anxiety, but the constant exhaustion and pain only make it worse. 

Clint doesn’t ask for help, not even when he spends days in bed, only getting up to go to the bathroom and drink a bit of water. 

As long as he had Lucky, those days were somewhat bearable. Clint would spend them cuddled up somewhere warm and soft with the deep, even breathing of his dog nearby, dozing on his chest while he could bury his hands in soft fur. It truly is Clint’s favourite way to seek comfort. Lucky always had a knack for reading his human’s mood. Especially on the bad days, he stays close, trying to help him in the sweet, loving way dogs do. Lucky is amazing in so many ways, and Clint just hopes he can repay his beloved companion enough. 

When Lucky first came to him, he was still kind of young, but now, he is much slower and calmer than before. His once entirely golden fur keeps growing greyer by the day, and their walks get shorter and shorter as time passes on. Instead, Lucky likes his sleep and getting belly rubs for as long as possible. Clint happily gives him all this, and much more. 

He owes this dog his life, and that is no exaggeration. If it wasn’t for Lucky, he probably would have given up on life years ago. 

But unfortunately, no dog lives forever and once his beloved companion is gone, Clint’s bad days get worse. They get worse in an emotional way, for sure, but he could swear that the pain itself doesn’t ease like it used to. 

His therapist strongly recommends getting another dog, because it is proven that emotional support animals can be very helpful, but he puts it off. Clint feels guilty, doesn’t want to replace Lucky, especially while he is still grieving. It feels wrong, but deep down he knows that his therapist is right.

“You don’t have to replace Lucky. He was special to you and I understand that, but I also think it would be good for you to allow another dog - or cat, or whatever animal you’d prefer - in your life. It helps.” his therapist had told him for the 20th time, and finally gotten through to him. 

A few days later, Clint visits the local shelter and finds himself sitting on the floor, surrounded by dogs of all shapes and sizes. Part of him would like to adopt every single one of them, because honestly, who wouldn’t? 

But then, he falls in love with a black lab. 

This dog is keeping to herself, sitting calmly behind the other dogs as if waiting for a quieter time to greet the new human in the room. One leg is missing, and there are some grey hairs scattered across her sweet face and especially around the snout. 

“Hello sweetie, who are you?” Clint asks, carefully crouching down near the lab. She comes closer, curiously sniffing his outstretched hand, wagging her tail and then allowing him to pet her. Even more so, she practically melts into the gentle touch and Clint has already given his heart to this dog. 

His grief over Lucky is still there - always will be, to some degree - but this sweet, gentle soul seems to be the perfect companion for him now. 

“This is Betsy. She’s an old lady, as you can see, and she’s been with us for most of her life. She was not treated well in the past.” the staff member explains, and it’s clear that she wants the best for Betsy. The young woman smiles at Clint with a knowing smile as she watches him interact with Betsy.

Clint is head over heels in love, and having to leave without this old lady dog almost breaks his heart all over again. Betsy seems to agree, because it very much looks like the love is mutual.

Luckily, a few visits and a lot of paperwork later, Betsy comes home with Clint. 

He carries her up the stairs, and once they enter the apartment, the dog is met with an overwhelming urge to sniff and explore everything, and she happily does so for all of two minutes before she trots over to where Clint has collapsed on the couch - the pain is flaring up again, but he smiles at Betsy and pats the space on the couch next to him. A moment later, Clint finds himself with a lapful of very happy dog, and he just knows that this was the right decision. 

Betsy is incredibly loving, calm, and mostly happy when she has food and cuddles available at all times - both of which are plentiful here. 

The first night, Betsy sleeps right next to Clint, burrowing into him and the blankets. From what they told him in the shelter, this is the first time ever she gets to be in a bed - or a couch, earlier that day. She seems so happy and grateful about every little thing, and Clint just knows he would kill for her in a heartbeat. 

Their shared journey only has begun, but the bond is already strong. Both of them are in desperate need of company and love, and they definitely found both in each other. 

As time goes on, the bad days get more and more, and it takes one particularly bad day where Clint almost misses a shot in the field for him to come to a final decision. 

No one but him notices his mistake, but it sends cold dread down his spine. After the debrief, when he finally makes it home, Clint has a full blown panic attack the second he closes the door behind him. He comes back to himself with Betsy pressing herself close to him, and he leans his cheek into her dark, smooth fur, stroking Betsy’s head in an attempt to calm down. 

The two of them are cuddled up on the couch, warm and secure, when Clint makes the decision. Today had been a close call - just a split second later, just a breath of air in the wrong direction, and people would have died. It can’t happen again - Clint is the best there is at his job, but it’s been too long. He’s in too much pain, getting too unreliable. It’s the last thing he needs, and damn it, the other Avengers deserve the truth. He owes them that much, not only for the obvious reasons, but because they are friends. 

Clint doesn’t talk to Steve. As much as he likes and respects him, the last thing he needs is Captain America trying to be kind and understanding when he himself doesn’t look a day over 30 and could casually weight lift a truck before breakfast.

Instead, he seeks out Tony in the downstairs laboratory.

Tony works just as always, chatting away to JARVIS and humming along to Black Sabbath - some things never change. Others do, however. Grey streaks are more and more visible in his dark hair and beard, and it might not be noticeable as much, but he moves more carefully than he uses to.

If nothing else, Tony will understand, so this is why Clint tells him bluntly,

“Hey. Just so you know - I’m retiring.”

“Alright. How come?” the other man asks, letting his screwdriver roll across the table.

“Getting all old and creaky.” Clint aims for a joke, but he gets a raised eyebrow in response.

“Excuse you, you’re younger than me. If you’re old and creaky, what does that make me?”

Clint shrugs.

“Not the guy who almost missed a shot in the field.” 

There it is. Out in the open. A beat of silence passes between them.

“What? When? I never even realized…” Tony looks at him directly now and he is no longer joking.

“Last mission. It still went okay, but… It nearly didn’t. I can’t go out there in good conscience and risk people's lives because I can’t do my job right anymore.” Clint shrugs again, sad this time.

“That wouldn’t be fair to either of you.”

Tony just nods, letting the silence wash over them for a while. Neither of them is good at the whole talking thing and honestly, they’ve known each other for so many years, there is more than a little understanding between them. 

“Those mortal, squishy, human bodies have their disadvantages, huh?” 

A bark of laughter bubbles up his throat. It feels strange, but he definitely needed that. 

“They sure do. Honestly, fuck that.” Clint laughs some more, and Tony looks satisfied with himself. He totally got the reaction he wanted, and their conversation is a lot lighter after that. 

“Hey.” Tony says later, keeping Clint from walking away just yet. 

“Don’t be a stranger, okay? Us mere mortals gotta stick together.” He goes for a shoulder check, but Clint pulls him into a quick but tight hug. Tony returns it though, clinging on for just a second before he releases his friend with a shoulder slap and another few bad jokes.

As far as conversations went, this one wasn’t half bad, Clint thinks, and makes his way back home.

Betsy is waiting for him, and happily greets him as soon as he walks through the door. 

“Hey honey, I’m home.” he tells her, happily letting her lick his face and then they curl up in their favourite spot.

Clint’s bones are aching and protesting from the movement of the day and old injuries are giving him trouble again. It’s getting cold out, and it only manifests what Clint already knew - he did the right thing. 

  
  


*+~

Prompt 7/25: Chronic Pain

**Author's Note:**

> Warnings:
> 
> \- breif, non-graphic mention of suicidal thoughts  
> \- off-screen death of a dog (due to old age, no cruelty!)  
> \- discussions of chronic pain and it's issues over the years  
> \- discussions of mental health, bad days


End file.
